


tatouage

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Kinktober 2019, M/M, Piercings, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 08:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20991605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Maybe it’s just something you find hot about Tavros Nitram.





	tatouage

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober day 10 which i missed, prompt was tattoos/piercings, so i went with both. also wow! kinktober but it's sfw.

It could be said that you’ve got a kink for this shit, and maybe you do. You like every inch of him, ‘cause of course you do, he’s your matefriend, boysprit, whatever. Maybe you’ve both got a thing for tattoos and piercings, maybe it’s just something you find hot about Tavros Nitram. Like, let’s be honest, when you first met him, Tavros was a fucking coward, a huge ass wimp, the kind of guy who acts like someone pissed in his breakfast 24/7. Think of the children, Tavros, don’t go around with that expression on your face. Quit mumbling, speak up a little.

Not that you ever said anything like that to him, you just got him out of his shell. Starting with piercings and tattoos, ironically. Like, yeah, you’d been eyeing them for a good bit, the idea that hey, maybe getting your ears pierced was a good idea, and Tavros went, “Well, why don’t you, you know, get one?”

You ended up coming out of a Claire’s (despite Kanaya’s ‘no, go to a tattoo parlor!’) with your lobes pierced, one on either side, and Tavros stared longingly at the silver metal for the next four days straight. Finally, mid-breakfast on the fifth day, you looked up from your toast and went, “Dude, let’s just go get your ears pierced, okay?”

His big ol’ floppy ears perked up a little and he grinned at you, showing off those extra-sharp teeth. You were both eighteen, two complete dumbasses in a completely new universe, and you were head over heels for Tav, even if you’d never actually said anything.

Ironically, when you sat in a tattoo parlor while he got his ears pierced, you grabbed his hand when it hurt and he held onto yours tight enough that when you looked over at him, his face was sepia-toned and looking like he’d put himself through a Photoshop filter. You could _almost _see the hearts wafting right off him, and when you grabbed his arm right outside, standing beneath the streetlights on an incredibly cold February evening, snow drifting aimlessly through the air, he looked at you and you looked at him and caught the glint of bronze metal in the lights, stood up on your tip-toes, and slammed your mouth into his.

And just like that, you were dating. Tavros got a nigh celebratory smiley piercing a few weeks later, and you got a crow’s skull tattooed on your right shoulder. Tavros traced it the second the covering came off, eyebrows raised all excitedly, and he went, “I want one.”

Six and a half years later, and you’ve probably memorized every single one of them.

He’s got an industrial piercing on his right ear, tragus and anti tragus and a couple daiths on there, inner conch and stretched lobes on both ears - he went for a vertical industrial on the other and the same tragus and anti tragus, two daiths and a helix or two, a rook in there somewhere (his ears are big enough that sometimes it’s hard to tell where’s pierced and where’s not.) Smiley, eyebrows (one on each), nose bridge and septum and two on his tongue - he’s got his nook and his bulge pierced, so you got your dick pierced too, Jacob’s ladder or whatever it’s called (but you like his way better.)

He says he likes your piercings better, says he likes that you stayed away from any on your face, ‘cept your eyebrow. You think he’s an idiot, because he looks hot as hell.

There’s a story behind every piercing, just like there’s a story behind all his tattoos and all yours. You have his name scrawled by your hip bone, ‘cause he kept writing it there in Sharpie enough that you said, “Dude, I’m just gonna get it tattooed,” and he went, all wide-eyed and shit, “But that’s _permanent_!”, and you went, “Aren’t _we _permanent?” and that shut him up big time.

Like, sure, you’ve got that one, that cool crow skull, some gears over your heart (looks weird, like someone ripped your skin open to reveal that you’re secretly a robot), there’s the music notes to spell out ‘fuck’ on your arm, and you got the Light symbol mashed up with the Time, Breath and Space ones to balance that out nicely, right on your other shoulder - it’s for your best friends, obviously, and for the fucking ass game you played, but that’s fine, you love them, you want to remember them if something happens.

Tav’s a little more on the fun side, with a full sleeve of fairytale-esque designs on his left arm, some dainty little Disney tattoos on his wrists and collarbone. He’s got your record on his right shoulder, right there in plain for anyone to see, ‘cause he’s yours, you’re his, all that dandy ass shit. A Celtic knot over his left pec, not that he knew what it was when he got it, “it just looks pretty!” he said and you were like, okay, whatever. Some of ‘em are black and white, some got a little color in them, like the roses on his lower back like a tramp stamp-kinda gig.

You like to lay on top of him and trace them, ‘cause when he’s naked and laid out like that beneath you, he’s fucking butter, you could rip him open and slice him up right there and he’d let you. But you wouldn’t, because… well, for one, the engagement rings on your fingers say a lot more than you’d tell anyone.

You love him. He loves you. It’s pretty fucking simple.


End file.
